


Glory Days

by Monsterunderthefedora



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt just wants to get this over with, Jaskier pines, M/M, Oblivious Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Valdo is an ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24423433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderthefedora/pseuds/Monsterunderthefedora
Summary: Due to some unforeseen circumstances resulting in Geralt's broken leg, both he and Jaskier visit the bard's old university in Oxenfurt to see a medic. Jaskier is more than happy to reminisce on his time there until he runs into one Valdo Marx.Geralt is oblivious to Jaskier's feelings for him. Valdo is not. And decides to try and one up Jaskier yet again by seducing the Witcher.Geralt, doesn't want any part of this. But he can't exactly walk away from it at the moment and is forced to deal with the two competing bards.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Valdo Marx
Comments: 33
Kudos: 348





	1. The Injury

Geralt was a trained witcher with many years of experience in monster slaying under his belt. But if there was one thing he hated more than anything else, was drowners. Drowners were everywhere there was water, constantly terrorizing villages. He'd taken the contract to resort the local nest, now in need of coin after Jaskier lost their money in a scheme to seduce some noble woman. Honestly he didn't know what went through the bard's head half the time.

But Geralt went in thinking the job was easy and he got cocky. Vesemir's reprimands telling him to always keep his guard up rang through his head when a stray drowner jumped him from behind. It knocked him to the ground, his leg twisting at an odd angle. He bit back a muffled cry of pain as he quickly dispatched of the creature with his blade. Looking at his foot Geralt hissed as he tried to reset it but in the process only made it worse.

"Shit." He cursed as he limped up, using his sword as a crutch. The witcher dropped a bomb in the nest before turning to his horse. Roache seemed to react when she saw her hurt owner. Trotting over and nuzzling Geralt. "It's fine girl, come on." The Witcher struggled to mount his horse. Leg in agony as he tried to maneuver it over the saddle. It was almost definitely broken. Great. 

The leg hung lifelessly as Geralt used his good leg to signal Roach to move. It took a few tries before she started to go. The witcher holding onto her reins tightly as to not fall off. Trotting back towards camp as the sun set Geralt saw his bard by a fire, poking at the flames. He looked towards Geralt slightly annoyed when Roache trotted up. 

"There you are. It's late, I was getting worried about you." Jaskier watching Geralt signalled Roache to stop. The man wobbled before less than elegantly falling off the horse. "Geralt?" The bard rushed over to help the witcher but his hands were swatted away. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Leg." Geralt gestured to the misaligned limb. Jaskier's face turned slightly green. "Need a potion."

"Geralt a potion won't fix that." Regardless, Jaskier still fetched one and handed it to the other man. Geralt downed it with a groan.

"No, but it'll speed up the process." 

"Shit, we need to get you to a healer," Jaskier said as he looked at the leg. 

"Take too long," Geralt struggled to get up but the bard forced him to lay back down. 

"No, it won't. Last thing you need is for that to get infected." Jaskier dug through his bag and pulled out a map. "Besides, if I'm right, we're not far from my old university."

"You went to college?" Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Yep! The University of Oxenfurt. Certified in seven liberal arts. They have some of the best healers in the North there."

"Fine. But we're not staying too long-Fuck!" Geralt cursed loudly as Jaskier simply laid a hand on the witcher's injured leg, unamused. 

"We're staying as long as your leg needs."

"Fine." Geralt gritted out as he sat up. A number of questions running through his head. Namely, how much did he actually know about his bard?


	2. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol and Jaskier are not a good combination.

"Ah Oxenfurt, how I missed you." Geralt grunted at the bard's words. Forced to lean on Jaskier's back as Roache strode through the streets. He'd refused to let Geralt ride the horse with a broken leg annoyed. The white haired man reluctantly agreed but of course eyes stared at the odd duo. The witcher felt ready to crawl into a hole and die about now.

"Please tell me the university is close by."

"What's the rush? Oxenfurt is beautiful this time of year." Jaskier beamed in the sunlight, the breeze on the Pontar River catching his hair as Roache stopped in front of the university. He held a have to help Geralt off but the man didn't take it. Hefting himself of the horse and stumbling into Jaskier's side. The bard opened his mouth but Geralt cut him off.

"Not a word. Healer. Now."

"Fine, fine." Jaskier assured him as they began to walk towards the entrance. Jaskier stopping mid stride when he noticed a man staring at them. He quickly went to turn around, Geralt's leg twisting as he yelped.

"Ow! What the fuck?" Geralt adjusted his weight.

"We can take the other door and-"

"Julian! How good to see you!" The bard hissed through his teeth, the man from earlier who spotted them coming over. He looked about the same age as Jaskier with curly black hair and olive skin. Bright green eyes shining as he smiled at the duo.

"Julian?" Geralt questioned.

"Valdo, so great to see you...bit actually I'm going by Jaskier now."

"Ah, so you decided to keep that silly stage name. I'm impressed it caught on." The backhanded compliment didn't go over Geralt's head. "And who's this large fellow then?"

"Geralt, if you'll excuse us-" Jaskier tried to walk away but the man didn't move. Geralt quirked an eyebrow. This was the man Jaskier wished dead? Seemed kind of annoying but then again, so was Jaskier.

"Geralt? As in The Geralt of Rivia? The white wolf you sing about?" Valdo asked eyeing the man up and down. "My, my, your songs don't do him nearly enough justice. May I ask what happened?" The other bard asked as he noticed Geralt's contorted leg.

"You may not, we're very busy. Bugger off."

"Oh Julian-"

"Jaskier," the bard interrupted, incredibly annoyed.

"You wound me. I thought we were friends." Jaskier ignored the man, leading Geralt around the building. The witcher staring back for a moment.

"Not a fan of him, I take it."

"Not a fan? Geralt that man is the most smug, pompous ass who writes for only the lowest common denominator in order to appeal to the masses. To call him a wastrel would be an insult to wastrels everywhere. And that is putting it lightly."

"Sounds personal."

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Can we at least talk about the fact your real name is Julian?"

"Julian is my old name, something I also do not wish to talk about." He sped up and Geralt struggled to keep up without agitating the injured leg. 

~~

"Your leg is indeed broken."

"Could've told you that." Geralt snarked at the healer. Now sat on a cot with Jaskier off doing Gods knew what.

"Luckily for you it's only a transverse fracture,'' the man grabbed Geralt's leg, wrapping it in a splint. The witcher biting back a snarl. Don't scare the person fixing your leg... "So it should, combined with your potions heal in about a week's time. Provided you stay off your feet."

"I'm a witcher. That's going to be a little hard."

"I know who and what you are, but I don't care. No hunting monsters, no fighting lords. Judging from your other multiple wounds and bruises, I'd say some bed rest is in order."

"Fine." Geralt relented. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "Jaskier mention where he was going?"

"The viscount mentioned something about the university bar."

"Viscount?"

"You didn't know?"

"I literally just found out he was actually named Julian today."

"His family, they're nobels, if I recall his uncle is the Ferrant de Lettenhove." That raised even more questions. Jaskier came from money. A lot of it. Why the hell had he gone on the road to be a bard? With a witcher nonetheless.

~~

"Another!" Jaskier loudly demanded as the bar tender passed him another drink. It was his third...maybe fourth ale? Now that he was thinking about it, it could've been his fifth. He didn't really care. It was only with this much alcohol in his system did it occur to him that maybe taking Geralt to his old university wasn't the greatest idea. Especially when Valdo Marx was around.

"Oh Julian!" Speak of the devil. The bard turned to see the man, permanent shit eating grin still on his face. "I'm not surprised you're here already, old habits die hard after all."

"It's Jaskier you smug....fuck..." Jaskier slurred out as Valdo raised his hand. Signalling for two drinks.

"You're so funny when you're drunk, makes you honest. I'm surprised your witcher doesn't know more all things considered."

"The fack...do you want?" Jaskier asked. Trying not to fall off his chair in the process of moving.

"Geralt."

"Wha...?"

"I've seen the way you look at him. Hell I'm pretty sure everyone who isn't Geralt has seen the way you look at him." Valdo mused as he took a drink. "Like a lovesick puppy. You'd have to be dense not to notice."

"Hey Grrr....Gralt s not dense..."

"No but you sure are." Valdo adjusted his seat to slide a paper over to Jaskier. A flier for his next performance. Well...Jaskier was 86% sure it was. The alcohol didn't help. "If you don't want to say anything, I'll be more than happy to." Jaskier snorted loudly, doubling over.

"Y'er funny, Geralt wouldn't like someone like you..."

"Want to make a bet on that?" Valdo was grinning. "If I can seduce your witcher by the end of the week, you'll never perform again."

"Whas in it fer me?"

"If you manage to get him to reciprocate your feelings, you'll never see hide nor hair of me again in all of Oxenfurt." The drunken Jaskier made a face when Valdo stuck out his hand. Thinking a moment before taking it.

"Deal!"


	3. Fucking Bards

"Mmmm...how much did I drink last night?" Jaskier asked himself as he awoke. Looking around to see his body half hung off the bed. The bard's head pounding when he noticed Geralt meditating on the floor. Eyes closed as Jaskier shuffled out of bed.

It took a moment before the memories of last night came flooding back. Oh shit-Oh shit-

"You smell like shit." Geralt said as he used a crutch to stand up. "Came in last night drunk off your ass singing about some nonsense."

"...please tell me I didn't say anything else."

"No but I did find out something very interesting from the healer." Geralt said an edge in his voice. "Why didn't you tell me you were a viscount?"

"Mmmm, didn't seem important." Jaskier's head thumped loudly against his brain.

"We've slept on hay before because we didn't have money for an inn. We haven't eaten food for days at a time and you constantly complained about the stale bread you were forced to eat. You left a cushy lifestyle as a viscount to go on the road and be a bard. Not even a really good one either-" Geralt was interrupted by a knock on their room's door. The witcher slamming the door open with a snarl. "What?"

The man at the door cowered slightly as he held out a bouquet of roses to Geralt.

"W-with compliments from Valdo Marx." Geralt took the flowers, confused. The messenger ran off in a hurry as Geralt looked at the flowers.

"Roses?" Jaskier asked as he took the flowers from Geralt. "Geralt, do you know what this means?"

"The messenger got the wrong person?"

"No! That ass, he's trying to upstage me. Again." Geralt's eyebrow raised. 

"Upstage you? How?"

"He knows you're my friend-"

"The status of our relationship is in question at the moment."

"-he's trying to woo you!" Geralt stared for a moment before snorting. "I'm being serious! He's trying to win you over."

"Jaskier, if he's like you I don't have anything to worry about." Geralt opened the door again as Jaskier tossed the flowers into a nearby bin. Trying to ignore his witcher's admittedly hurtful comment. Going down the hall towards the lounge area of the inn they were at. 

"Where are you going? The healer said you need to stay in bed."

"If I'm going to be stuck here all week, I need alcohol. A lot of it." Considering last night, Jaskier couldn't exactly judge.

The bard stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Valdo already there. Lounging at the bar and Jaskier's face twisted.

"Julian! Dear boy, I'm surprised you're already up after last night." Jaskier growled at his old name's use. He was not normally one for violence, in public at least, but the way the other bard eyed Geralt made him want to deck him. "Geralt! Did you get the flowers I sent for you?"

"Waste of thirty five crowns," Geralt said making his way past the bard towards the bar. Jaskier going to follow when he heard it. An unfortunately familiar voice.

"Jaskier you whoreson!" He turned to come face to face with a woman storming over to him. Anger etched on her face as he paled.

"Did I forget to mention? I made sure word you're back in town got around. There's quite a few women around here who wish to have a word with you." Valdo smirked but Jaskier didn't have time to retort. Quickly darting out the side door of the inn in hopes of escape. There were many things on Earth Jaskier was afraid of, an angry Vespula was near the top. 

~~

Geralt sat in the bench, ale in hand as he watched his bard dart out the door. An irate woman close behind. If memory served him correct, this was the woman who caught Jaskier mid fuck in her own house. Jumping out the top window, trousers still around his ankles as she threw flower pots at his head. He couldn't understand why the bard would happily tell him about these escapades but completely forget about the detail that he was a viscount. Named Julian.

He'd been enjoying the almost minute of silence since Jaskier left when the other bard slid on the bench across from him. 

"I-"

"Fuck off." Geralt was not in the mood for this man. The bard didn't take heed instead digging some papers out of his doublet.

"My apologies if I come off as a bother-"

"You are."

"-but after I saw you yesterday, I was inspired. You're so unique, and if Julian's tales come even close to your feats, I had to write your praises." 

"Praises...?"

"In the form of a ballad." 

"Please don't." Geralt looked around for his misplaced crutch but it was nowhere in sight. Damn it. Valdo pulled out his lute, strumming the first note. Annoyed and completely done with the persistent bard's advances Geralt grabbed the lute and smashed it into the nearby wall.

"Oh..." Valdo muttered. "Well luckily for you, I brought another!" The man produced another instrument to the witcher's dismay.

Fucking bards.


	4. Witchers are Heavy, but Emotional Baggage is Impossible

"Show your face your cowardly whoreson! You, you, you wastrel of a minstrel!" Jaskier clung into his lute as he ducked behind a vendor's cart. Vespula loudly calling out new and creative insults as she searched for your bard. Honestly if she turned her hatred into song, she'd probably be doing very well for herself. But that was besides the point. The man waited, watching his past love look around quickly before storming off. He let out a sigh of relief when he slid down. Thank the gods-

"Mind if I join you?" 

"Eeepp!" Jaskier let out a distinctly unmanly yelp as someone joined his hiding spot. The figure squatting down next to him. "...Geralt? What are-?"

"Shhhh." The witcher out his hand over Jaskier's mouth as the voice of an ass called out.

"Geralt? Where'd you go?" Jaskier and Geralt peeked over the cart to see Valdo looking around the town square in front of the university. The witcher pulling the bard down with him quickly as the man looked around. Eventually leaving and Geralt let out a breath of relief.

"What was that about?" Jaskier asked as he stood up, helping Geralt do the same. "You're supposed to stay off your foot."

"I know. But then he started singing to me. Calling me a white haired beauty...amongst other things." Jaskier snickered.

"Oh poor you, actually being complimented must be so hard. Surprised you didn't punch him."

"I did. Kept on going on and on, he's almost as bad as you are." 

"Don't you dare compare us, or I will drop you." Jaskier threatened the witcher he was supporting as they walked away. Geralt glancing back curious. 

"Inn's the other way."

"I know, there's some place I want to show you first. It's not far."

"My leg hurts." Geralt said causing Jaskier to stop. Pausing before he grabbed the witcher, hefting him over his shoulder. Everyone in the busy square watching as Jaskier began to carry the flustered Geralt. "What in the Gods names are you doing?!"

"Carrying you! I'm a lot stronger than I look you know." Jaskier laughed.

"I...fine..." Geralt didn't protest as the bard walked down the road. Jaskier humming a certain song the man didn't care for. It was slightly embarrassing but if he had to choose between the two bards? He'd take Jaskier in a heart beat.

~~

"It smells like shit."

"Yes, the lovely Pontar is known for its many sights and smells. Namely drowners and fish." The sand bank along the river was abandoned as they came to a stop under the stone bridge. "Used to hide here when I was supposed to be taking arithmetic lessons." He grunted as the bard set down his injured witcher. Joining him on the sand. "Seemed so certain they could beat the math into me. Well look at where I am now."

"Regretting you didn't pay more attention during those lessons?" Jaskier elbowed Geralt.

"Hey, I'm not that bad. Besides you're not one to judge. You learned math what? A hundred years ago?" Jaskier was out of breath. Geralt was impressed the bard managed to carry him that far.

"Mmmm, not that long. Say about seventy five at most."

"You're such an old man Geralt, it's not even funny. Next thing you know, you'll need a cane to walk. I'll have the local woodcarver make you one."

"Try it and I'll shove it where the sun doesn't shine." Geralt was only half joking but Jaskier laughed regardless. "Why didn't you tell me?" The witcher asked abruptly, leaning towards Jaskier.

"What? That my family is filthy rich?"

"That you're a viscount." Geralt watched his bard's face turn into a frown. "Were you disowned?" Jaskier snorted.

"I wish. Sadly last time I saw my father he was intent on trying to prime me for inheriting his estate."

"Why'd you leave? You could have anything you want. A place to stay, food every night, no bed bugs..." The witcher itched his neck at the thought. Memories of the disgusting beds they'd slept in coming to mind. "But you left, just to be some bard."

"I'm not just some bard Geralt. I'm your bard." Jaskier sighed loudly. "I've seen so many things, meet so many people, performed feats some people can only sing about. That's what I wanted. I would've never have met you if I just stayed and became the second Viscount Di Lettonhove. Named Julian. Julian, Geralt. My parents...my mother insisted she loved me but to give a child that name is not fair in the slightest." 

"Did I ever tell you what I wanted my name to be?" Geralt snickered and Jaskier peeked up.

"Oh?"

"On the path, we're encouraged to take a last name. Make things easier. I wanted to be Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde." Jaskier laughed.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I was barely twenty-"

"That is the most pretentious name I've heard in my life."

"That's exactly what Vesemir said."

"Who?"

"The man who raised me at Kaer Morhen. He gave me a good slap for it."

"I probably would've too." The thought of a young Geralt trying to go by that name was almost as inconceivable as it was hilarious. A pleasant quiet taking over as they stared at the river, sun beginning to set. Jaskier watching as the rays caught Geralt's white hair. He looked stunning. The bard's voice catching in his throat as he began to move in. Geralt however spoke first, pulling away.

"It's getting late, we should head back now."

"Y-yeah..."


	5. Love is in the Air (Love Potion, That Is)

"What on Earth is that?"

"I have no idea." Geralt and Jaskier arrived to their room at the inn to find a strangely wrapped box on their bed. The witcher picking it up where a note was written near the top.

'To the man with hair white as snow and eyes yellow as gold, I give you a portrait for your beautiful eyes to behold.'

Geralt's interest was...piqued he had to admit. Tearing there top off to reveal a painting. 

"It's..."

"-heinous." "Beautiful." Jaskier and the witcher said simultaneously. Geralt staring in confusion and the bard in awe.

"What...is it?" All the pale haired man saw was splotches of blue and yellow on a green background. Jaskier snatched the painting. 

"It's an elven original! Only master elven craftsman can make these, I'd recognize this work anywhere." Jaskier ran a hand along the hardwood frame. "Who sent this? These are incredibly rare and extremely expensive."

"Valdo-" Jaskier's face instantly turned to a sneer. Dropping the painting as if it was covered in bugs. Geralt looking it over. "Although I don't know why. It's not like I have anywhere to hang it. Except maybe Roache's neck. But I don't think she'd appreciate it." Picking it up with a look. "What should we do with it?"

"Burn it...gently." Geralt shrugged, casting Igni and it quickly lit up before crumbling to ash. That's when he noticed a letter previously his underneath the large picture. The bard grabbed the slightly bent letter. An ornate lion sigil has been pressed into the red wax. Grabbing his dagger too open the letter Jaskier found a letter addressed to him.

"What is it?" Geralt asked curiously.

"It's an invitation...." Jaskier skimmed the paper. "It's from the Johnslaws. They heard about me being in town and want me to go to their gala." Jaskier hummed before balling the paper up and tossing it aside. 

"Don't want to go?" Geralt asked as he lied down on the bed, taking his shirt off. Jaskier too annoyed to pay attention. 

"Gods no, my family night actually be there." Jaskier grabbed his night shirt and continued to complain as he changed. "When I was little my parents would drag me to things like that and show me off in the most awful of outfits." The bard making a disgusted sound as he recalled. "Absolutely no color, only boring black and whites with the most bland music and food as to not offend sensibilities." He plopped on the bed opposite Geralt, his feet by the witchers's head. "Dreadfully voting and nothing I wish to experience again."

"If you wanted, I could go with you." Geralt suggested as Jaskier grabbed the oil lamp and blew it out. The room was dark but the witcher could clearly see Jaskier fall back on their bed. Feather stuffed. Rather nice, save Jaskier sneezing every couple of seconds.

"No, it's fine, I wouldn't want to drag you to that kind of thing. Might be forced to wear a doublet. Comb your hair."

"Thought that was your job." Geralt heard Jaskier's heart beat steady as he began to drift off.

"G'night Geralt...."

"Night Jaskier." The bard feel asleep soon after leaving Geralt to meditate. Waiting for the morning to come.

~~

"Oh Valdo, what's got you so down? Normally you'd be bragging about your conquest by now." The late night bar crowd was busy as usual. No one paying mind to the three men playing Gwent in the corner. The dark haired bard was sulking as the red haired man next to him guffawed.

"Oh he didn't tell you Jesp? Here's fancied himself a witcher this time around."

"A witcher? The fuck you doing with that kind of mutant."

"More like what he isn't doing." The red haired man goaded as he played his final card. "I think that's what we call a win boys."

"The fuck it is-"

"Will you two idiots shut up!" Valdo snapped at the two. He didn't know why he was so on edge. It had only been two days since he started his attempts but then again, most people were eating out of his hands after a few hours. "I'm trying to think."

"Still butt hurt after the bard?" The red haired man was silenced by a glare from Valdo. "Sorry...I just don't see why you'd want his freak of a boyfriend.'

"I don't want him. I want to make Jaskier know what it feels like to lose something he loves permanently."

"Actually I think I have something that could help with that." Jesper grinned. Digging through his pack and pulling out a small vial filled with a bubbly pink liquid. Handing it out to Valdo. "Got this off some sorceress' bitch when she tried to scam me last winter."

"What is it?" Valdo took the vial, looking it over.

"Love potion. Add a drop of your blood and give it to your recipient of choice. They'll get head over heels for you that second. Course she said there might be some side effects but I wasn't really listening." Valdo looked over the vial. That was very interesting...but...he still had three days. Pocketing the potion Valdo quickly forgot about it, instead returning to their game. He didn't need some love potion to win. Not yet at least.


	6. Clothes Shopping

"What do you think?"

"I think they both look the same."

"Geralt, this is very important. I don't want to leave looking like an idiot."

"To be fair, I think you look like an idiot most of the time." Geralt watched the bard look between two seemingly identical doublets. The witcher honestly didn't get what the bard was thinking too hard about. 

"Well then we're both going to look like idiots today."

"Excuse me?"

"You smell."

"I just took a bath."

"Geralt. You have a total of two shirts and a pair of pants. Both which started out as white. They're black now."

"And? Most people pay a lot of money for black clothes." Geralt shrugged.

"It's. Disgusting." Jaskier threw one of the shirts aside. "I'm taking you to a tailor."

"Excuse me?"

"You need new clothes. Clean ones, not something you pillaged off a corpse."

"For Gods sake Jaskier, it was one time-"

"That's more than most people do Geralt. We are not arguing about this."

"Good luck trying to lift me after yesterday." The bard had to admit, his bones still ached after the lifting he did yesterday.

"Okay fine, I'll leave you. When Valdo starts singing your praises with nowhere for you to go, I'm sure you'll have a fun day. Alone," Jaskier began to walk out the door, "with Valdo."

"Wait." Jaskier paused, a smirk on his face when he saw Geralt's look of distress. "I'll go with you."

"That's what I thought." Jaskier wrapped his arm around Geralt's uninjured one. 

~~

"Otto's Tailoring and Alterations?" Geralt asked as he read the sign. Jaskier grinning ear to ear as they entered the building.

"He's the only man I trust to tailor my wardrobe. Well him and Elihal."

"Who?"

"A friend from Novigrad."

"Right...." The bell above the door rang. The witcher glancing around the lobby to see mannequins everywhere. Dressed in brightly colored doublets and gowns.

"Ah, Jaskier!" The duo turned to see an older man dressed in gaudy purple fabrics. A grin on his aging face as he patted the younger man on the shoulder. Kissing him on the cheeks before pulling away. "My favorite customer! As soon as you sent that letter, I started to prepare everything just for you!"

Letter? How long had Jaskier been planning this out? Geralt was slowly starting to theorize that somehow, some way, Jaskier had planned the breaking of his leg.

"It's a pleasure to see you again Otto, it's been far too long since I last saw you."

"Of course," the man paused. Finally seeming to have noticed Geralt's presence. "Oh! Is...this your companion?" The man, Otto, asked in a time that suggested confusion. 

"Geralt of Rivia." The witcher replied curtly.

"You didn't say your partner was...of a masculine persuasion."

"Oh I guess I did forget to mention that...." Geralt's eyebrow raised. Did Jaskier bring girls here? Scratch that. He almost definitely did.

"Hmmm," the tailor hummed looking Geralt over. "I can work with this." Otto pulled out a measuring ribbon. "Arms up, shirt off."

"Excuse me?" Geralt asked incredulously.

"I need your measurements to be as accurate as possible. I refuse to let any paramour of my dear Jaskier have anything less." If Geralt could flush, he would.

"He's not-"

"We're just friends." Geralt said. The tailor was unfazed. 

"Regardless, I still need your measurements." There man gestures for Geralt's shirt.

"Can we do this somewhere in private?"

"Private?"

"Somewhere I won't have people staring at me?" Geralt asked. Otto nodded, leading the limping witcher to a room shrouded by curtains. Walking past outfits, namely fancy gowns in a wide variety of colors at the ready. Yeah. Definitely wasn't the first time Jaskier brought someone there. Pulling the curtains shit the tailor turned to Geralt. 

"Strip down to your pants please." The tailor turned around. Geralt stared for a moment before doing so. Taking his shirt off and throwing it at the floor. Otto turning around and making a face when he saw the shirt. Or smelled it. Maybe Jaskier was right about him needing a bigger wardrobe. Otto taking in the witcher for a moment before wrapping the ribbon around his waist, taking in the numbers and murmuring to himself. "48...32..." Otto pulled away. Geralt reaching for his shirt but the tailor quickly stopped him. "No, no, that is to be burned by the eternal flame in hopes of forgiveness for whatever sins you committed to make it smell like that."

"What am I supposed to do? Walk around shirtless?" The tailor grabbed a shirt from nearby, tossing it to Geralt.

"Wear that while I work." The witcher shrugged. Putting the shirt on he found it was too big, revealing most of his chest. Geralt brushed it off, better than nothing. Walking out past the tailor now burning his shirt he saw Jaskier lounging in the lobby.

"Geralt! I-" Jaskier paused when he saw the shirt Geralt was wearing. "I, ugh, you, that shirt...."

"Yeah, don't think I'm getting the other one back." The Witcher didn't notice the pink tinge on Jaskier's face. "Gods I feel like Yen in this." Geralt pulled it out when the bell rang. Both the Witcher and Jaskier turned and frowned.

"Gentleman! Such a coincidence to run into you here."

"Valdo...what are you doing here?" Jaskier was attempting to force a smile and failing miserably.

"I came to have a hat mended! Oh Uttu-"

"It's Otto." Jaskier interrupted. 

"Right well...." Valdo trailed off when he noticed Geralt's chest. "Oh...I see you're here for a fitting." Jaskier stepped in front of his witcher to block the view.

"And Otto is very busy. So bugger off."

"And done!" The tailor came out holding a package, handing it to Geralt with a grin. "Just some alterations and some hemming, nothing too complicated."

"Thanks Otto, you're the best." Jaskier reached into his coin purse but Otto stopped him.

"It's on me. Trust me, you'll more than pay it off next time you come around. Although just make sure you stop by later so I can see master witcher wearing it."

"I wouldn't mind seeing it on him either," Valdo's smarmy voice oozed as he continued to stare. Geralt shifting under the man's gaze. 

"We're going." Jaskier said turning around.

"Oh! Before you do," Valdo reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope. "For you my dear witcher. The Johnslaws Gala, I'd like you to be my plus one."

"He doesn't want to go." Jaskier answered for Geralt, dragging the man behind him. Valdo glared at the other bard when he watched them leave.

"Do you need help with something?" The tailor asked but Valdo didn't hear him, storming out in a huff.


	7. Confessions Gone Awry

"I guess it's not too bad. A little itchy-"

"Geralt, there's only enough room for one whiner in here and that's me. Just come out already." Jaskier encouraged the witcher from his seat on their bed. The witcher struggling into the tailor's shirt given to them earlier behind the bath screen.

"I look like an idiot."

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Geralt paused before walking out. Jaskier looking over the doublet in shock. It was dark blue with puffed out shoulders and open sleeves at the elbows. The back tails were long, stopping around the white haired man's knees. "You look...."

"Like a jester?"

"I was going to say amazing but now that you mention it, I kind of see it." Despite his jest Jaskier had yet to look away. It had almost definitely been a dress at some point. Jaskier knew enough from his mother's sewing lessons to identify the stitch work. But it had been altered just enough to emphasize Geralt's frame in a flattering way. "Definitely an improvement from that old rag you called a shirt." It was more than an improvement but he dare not say anything further.

"You said you wanted me to wear it for something special," Geralt said as he pulled at the sleeves. "Got something else planned too?"

"Actually yes!" Jaskier excitedly pulled out two tickets from his purse, handing one to the Witcher. "A college friend of mine, Elizebetza, she's in a play this afternoon. I thought you'd might want to go."

"It's not like I have a choice, is it?"

"Not particularly no."

"Alright, but don't be surprised if I fall asleep halfway through it." Jaskier beamed as he took Geralt's good arm and led him down the inn's stairs. Outside Roache was waiting. Geralt looking between Jaskier and the horse. "I can't ride her."

"Alone! I'll help you."

"Jaskier, the last time you attempted to mount Roache you ended up with your voice an octave higher." Jaskier winced at the memory. He still thought back to it on the occasion he needed to hit a high note. 

"I have faith she won't now that you're at my side."

"Hmmm." The bard helped lift the witcher on the mare. Geralt didn't notice Jaskier slipping Roache a sugar cube before following. Behind Geralt, feet in the stirrups, Jaskier reached for Roache's reigns. The horse neighed, jolting forward and knocking Geralt further back in Jaskier's lap.

"Umm..." Jaskier's face flushed at their proximity.

"Don't worry about, she gets nervous with new people." Geralt adjusted and the bard nodded.

"Right...let's head off before we miss the show." Jaskier flipped the reigns. "Giddy up." Roache complied, running down the city street like a bat out of hell. Jaskier praying he'd survive the night.

~~

"Whoa there!" Geralt watched Jaskier attempt to control Roache. The mare slowly coming to a stop in front of a large building. People were milling about, in and out of the building. Bright lights illuminated the front glass doors. 

The crowd stared at the duo as Jaskier climbed down before helping Geralt off Roache. Whispers could be heard as they walked past. The Witcher trying to shrink away from the attention Jaskier seemed to be basking in.

"The viscount?"

"It's been years..."

"Who's that man with him?"

"Look at his eyes-"

"A witcher?"

"How scandalous." 

"Fuck," Geralt breathed in as they finally entered the building. "Everyone's staring."

"Of course, the best way to make an entrance." Inside the theater people were milling about the lobby. The witcher was ready to retreat into a dark corner. Entering the seating area, Jaskier found their seats on pews near the front.

"Care to tell me what we're actually going to be seeing?"

"Oh it's a rendition of Sleeping Beauty."

"Ah, a tragedy." 

"What no, it's a romance."

"What's romantic about a king breaking into a tower, raping the princess and her waking up to twins?"

"Are you sure we're talking about the same story Geralt?"

"I'm talking about the real story."

"You know, sometimes you can be really morbid." 

"Hmmm." Geralt grinned slightly as he watched Jaskier turn to the stage. The pews around them were unsurprisingly empty. Geralt grabbing a stray playbill and fiddling with it. Minutes later the candle light went out and the stage lit up. The play was about to start.

~~

"-and lo, I have found thee, my Briar Rose." The play had felt like ages to the tired witcher but in reality it couldn't have been more than two hours. By the time it finally ended and the crowd, Jaskier included, had stood up and started to clap he was snapped out of his haze. 

"Is it over already?" Geralt asked, using the pew in front of him as a crutch to stand up. 

"Yes, and I just say I'm surprised." Jaskier snorted as he began to lead Geralt out to the lobby. "When you started to snore sometime in the second act I was sure Lady Leorna was going to strike you dead."

"Oh ugh, sorry."

"Don't be. It was a dreadful performance. The man playing Prince Florimund was so intoxicated he almost fell off the stage multiple times." 

"That bad?"

"Honestly the theater department here has gone down the drain. There's only one person worse who could've been cast." 

"Let me guess, Valdo Marx?"

"How'd you know?"

"I have a sense for these kind of things." Both the witcher and Jaskier laughed as exited through the back of the building. Geralt looking at the other man confused.

"This way we can avoid everyone going out the front." Jaskier leading Geralt through a well groomed garden. Candle lights spaced out through the area. If Geralt didn't know better, he'd say this is romantic. 

"You seem to know this place pretty well."

"Used to hide here from my professors. I'd come here to write poems for my beloved...s."

"How many girls you bring around here?" Geralt asked as they walked past the small pond. 

"None. It might sound weird but it always seemed to personal to me." Geralt hit his foot, almost tripping on the ground when Jaskier caught him. "I wanted to bring someone special." There was a pause as the two stared at each other. Before Jaskier began to lean in. Only to be stopped by a hand.

"Jaskier, I...we shouldn't." The bard's face fell. Geralt struggling to get up as he refused to look the bard in the face. "I'm sorry..."

"No. It's okay....let's just go back."


	8. A Night of Regrets

The ride back to the inn was tense. Jaskier's grip on Roach's reins tight, Geralt's hands firmly in the horse's saddle. When they finally arrived, Geralt maneuvered himself off Roach. Jaskier following.

"Geralt, I'm sorry-"

"It's fine." The witcher cut him off. Clinging to the crutch by his side. 

"I could get a different room if you want."

"No I...you can go sleep. I'll be downstairs." Drinking. Jaskier looked like he wanted to say something but didn't. Going towards the stairs as Geralt made his way to the bar. Signaling the innkeep for a drink. He knew he fucked up. Gods did he ever. Jaskier looked so heart broken at his rejection.

When a drink was slid across the bar he took a swig. The alcohol gone in a matter of seconds. He liked Jaskier. It wouldn't even be a stretch to say he loved the bard. But he knew how this would end. Yennefer coming to mind as he took another drink. Then another. And another. And another...

At some point the drinks blended together. He was short coin now but he felt the effects of inebriation start to set in. 

"Couldn't help but notice you alone." The buzzed Witcher turned to see the green eyed bard he'd slowly come to detest. 

"Pizzzz off." Geralt wasn't sure how much time had passed but he really didn't care either way. 

"Oh my getting drunk, that must take a while for a specimen such as yourself." Geralt side eyed the man, a warning for him to stop. But the bard ignored it. Going on as Geralt's jaw clenched. "I heard about your debacle at the play house. Honestly it might be funny if it wasn't so sad. Jaskier actually thinking someone like you would v-"

Valdo was cut off by a fist to the face. Knocking flat to the ground with a loud crunch. The man cried out, raising a hand to his bent and bloody nose.

"Listen up you stupid out of tune fuck," Geralt's words slurred together as Valdo got up. Jabbing a finger in the man's chest. "You've been following be me around for four fucking days now and I'm sick of your shit. I'm done with you and Jaskier making asses of yourselves to win some stupid bet."

"You knew?" Valdo asked, face draining of color.

"Of course I fucking knew, everyone who was here could hear your drunken asses. But I wanted to humor it. Not any more. You pompous, disgusting, sad excuse of a man. I know you think you're better than Jaskier but you'd be lucky to be half the man he is." The drunken, verbal undressing was loud. Everyone staring at the bard and the witcher with amusement and interest. Valdo stared at the seething white haired man for a moment before the seemingly ever present smile he had returned.

"I can take a hint. I'll leave, never bother you again. But before I do, perhaps I'll buy you a drink." Geralt's nose scrunched up before nodding.

"Least you could do." Geralt sat back down at the bar as Valdo signalled for a drink. The witcher not noticing the man slip something in and senses dulled by the alcohol, he drank.


	9. Long Distance Call

By the time sunlight hit Jaskier's face in the morning he still felt as if there was a hole in his chest. The will to get out of bed was all but gone as he rolled over. Still no Geralt. Not surprising, after the disaster that was last night. If he was lucky Geralt was already so drunk he completely forgot about everything. But then again, he'd never be that lucky. 

The bard got up, his doublet from last night hanging off his body. Stumbling downstairs Jaskier paused at the scene laid out before him. There at the bar was his witcher, practically sitting in Valdo's lap. An almost unnaturally wide smile on his face as Geralt laughed, fucking laughed, at whatever Valdo was saying. Geralt looked very...un Geralt like, his arms slung around the other bard.

"What, in the fuck?" Jaskier asked loudly. Valdo looking back, a smirk on his face.

"Ah, Julian, you're finally up." Geralt didn't even look at Jaskier. "Don't mind us, we'll be leaving soon."

"Geralt, what the hell?" Jaskier asked. 

"Hm?" The witcher barely turned his head in acknowledgement. 

"Oh it's a funny story really, Jaskier. You see Geralt here told me all about your little venture last night. Turns out, we had a lot more in common than we thought."

"Like what?"

"Wine tastes to start. A deep aged red preferably." Now that was a bold faced lie. Geralt would never say it but Jaskier knew he preferred sweet whites. "It was pleasant seeing you but we really most leave." The bard got up and Jaskier watched as Geralt stood too. Walking behind him Jaskier gaped.

"Geralt, your leg-" But the witcher didn't acknowledge him. Waltzing out of the bar without a care towards the pain he must be going through. Something was rotten in the state of Denmark, and Jaskier knew whatever it was he needed help.

~~

"Come on, come on where are you?" Jaskier dug through Geralt's pack. It was full of assorted junk. Straw dolls, broken rake parts...was that a unicorn horn? The bard shook his curiosity off and tossed the item aside. That's when his hand came into contact with a small metal box. Jaskier grinned as he pulled out the round metal object. A xenobox or something. 

A note on it said Do Not Touch. This means you Jaskier. The bard snorted. Like he'd ever listened to this kind of thing before. He'd seen Geralt use it before. It was given to him by Yennefer on one of their ventures. Geralt could use it to call her from long distances but rarely did so. Said it might lose its power or something. But this was an emergency. Geralt probably wouldn't mind.

"Hello?" Jaskier shook it. "Anyone there?" He stared at the tin box. Waiting for a solid minute before it crackled to life.

"Geralt?" It was Yennefer. Jaskier had never thought he'd be this happy to hear the sorceress' voice.

"Um no, Jaskier actually."

"Jaskier?"

"His bard?"

"Ah right, the one in the gaudy blue outfit." Jaskier snorted. She was one to talk but. But he held his tongue.

"Yes that one-listen I need your help. Geralt needs your help."

"I'm a little occupied at the moment-"

"It's important. Please." Yennefer couldn't see him but she seemed to hear his desperation.

"Alright, I'll try my best. What did you two do this time?"

"That's the thing...Geralt was acting odd this morning."

"Odd?"

"There's this troglodyte that some people would call a man named Valdo Marx."

"I take it you don't care for him?"

"Not in the slightest. And neither did Geralt. But this morning I wake up to him, practically in Valdo's lap grinning like an idiot."

"Well I suppose that is rather...different for Geralt. But who's to say they didn't just have a fun night?" Jaskier almost threw up in his mouth at the suggestion of his witcher laying with that man.

"Even if that were possible, which it isn't, it got weirder. Geralt broke his leg a few days ago. But he just followed Valdo out of the bar like nothing." There was a pause on the other end before Yennefer cursed.

"Fuck...sounds like a love potion."

"Love potion?"

"Well more like lust potion. They're generally frowned upon in the magic community because of the immorality of stealing someone's choice."

"Glad to know you have some standards." 

"Jaskier, I'm being serious. These kinds of potions can cause irreversible damage." That didn't sound good. Actually none of it did. 

"Like....?"

"If he's not given a cure within twenty four hours the effects become permanent."

"Okay well what's the cure?"

"True loves kiss." Jaskier made a face.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Am I the joking type?"

"Well you need to get your ass over here and kiss Geralt as soon as possible."

"I wish I could but at the moment it's literally impossible."

"Yenn please." Jaskier pleaded into the magical device. "For Geralt's sake..."

"I can't....but there is another cure."

"Really, what?" Jaskier perked up.

"A simple potion really. Some celandine, chrysanthemums, oil...dragon tears."

"Mmmhmm...what was that last one?"

"The tears of a dragon."

"Right and where the hell am I supposed to get that?" The bard asked incredulously. 

"I don't know b...ly other....Jas-" The box turned to static as Jaskier began to violently shake it.

"No, no, no, damn you!" Cursing at the device did not change the situation. The xenovox was dead and Jaskier was now left with the nigh impossible task of finding dragon tears to save his witcher. Why couldn't things ever be easy with Geralt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yenn makes an appearance! Jaskier is...not doing so hot at the moment.


	10. Where the Dragons Are

Jaskier remembered a tale his mother told him when he was little. The blue dragon of the rolling hills. Far outside of Oxenfurt, just past the Pontar in the mountains there was said to be a dragon. Most people thought it was a myth, after all, it would've been caught by now tight? 

But he was desperate. No trader I'm the city knew of how to get dragon tears so this way his best chance. He wasn't made to do adventuring like this alone. That's what Geralt did. For Gods sakes, he was already winded from his climb up the mountain. And he wasn't even half way up yet. Looking for some creature that may or may not exist. A creature he needed to make cry. 

The only thing that keeps him moving was the image of Geralt with that bastard. The sword on his back weighed heavy. Silver for monsters...or was it steel? No it was steel...God he hoped it was silver. He'd only been able to carry one up. 

The trip was longer than he expected. The sun was now a deep orange as it began to set. When he reached the summit of the mountain he saw the remains of fallen men leading to the mouth of a large cave. No one rational came up here. But he was never one for rationality. Following his heart into the cave Jaskier found his hands shaking on the sword's handle. He didn't have to kill a dragon, he knew that. Finding body after body however did nothing to calm him. 

A rumbling noise could be heard from further in. Jaskier darted behind some rocks as he felt the ground start to tremble. The bard held his breath as he peeked out when the movement stopped. There stood the creature he came for. A dragon. Smaller than the ones he'd seen before. All two of them. Blue scales glistening in the few rays of light that reached this far back.

"You can come out." The dragon spoke. Jaskier felt his heart leap. "I saw you earlier viscount." The man scowled at the title. Stepping out to see the dragon, judging by it's voice, a woman, the bard stood tall. She looked bemused at the small human. Lowering her head to better face him. 

"My name is Jaskier."

"Jaskier, I suppose you're here to kill me?" She tilted her head in a gesture towards his sword. Jaskier dropped the weapon.

"No. I'm here for your help." The dragon stared at him.

"Help? How could I help you?"

"There's...someone very dear to me. He needs something only you have."

"And that is?"

"Your tears." She dragon clicked her tongue.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

"Please, it's the only way to save him."

"I simply can't bring myself to cry." The dragon eyed the lute that was ever present at his side. "But...I have seen you before. Perhaps you could sing me something?" Jaskier's hand went to his lute. Hesitating for a moment. Unsure what to play. It needed to be something important....moving...something that could make her tear up...

Grabbing the instrument, Jaskier's hands plucked the strings. His throat constricting before he began to sing.

"...these scars long have yearned for your tender caress..." His voice carried through the cave. "To make my own journey damn what the stars say. Rend my heart open then your love profes. A winding, weaving fate I know you not chose." Jaskier sang. The invisible hand of his muse guiding him. "You flee my dream come the morning. Your eyes are pools of gold. Hair white as winter snow, but I wonder what lies beneath. The wolf I will follow through the storm. To your heart, my passion is placed. By ire ever growing into stone..." Jaskier's voice was hoarse. Unable to bring himself to continue. He didn't even know how or where the song came from. 

The dragon examines him closely. Her eyes looking for something but Jaskier didn't know what.

"You truly love this man. Don't you?" She asked. Jaskier didn't hesitate to answer.

"With all of my heart." The dragon nodded. Resting her head on the ground.

"Consider my heart swayed viscount." Jaskier watched as she teared up. The man stumbling for his vial and holding it to her face. Catching the droplet he quickly corked the precious ingredient. "I wish you only the best in your journey young bard."

"I can't thank you enough for this...but..."

"But?"

"I have one more favor to ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the song is a loose translation of Priscilla's from the game.


	11. A Dance to Die For

"Valdo, I have to admit showing up with that thing....you certainly are brave."

"At least he's well behaved."

"I supposed it not that bad looking. For a mutant." The arch duchess snorted as she chattered on with the group that had gathered around Valdo. All eyes had been on his companion since they'd arrived at the gala. The host himself having whisked the witcher away to talk. Not that Geralt was one for conversation at the moment. Valdo laughed along but he had to admit. He at least felt somewhat guilty about the potion. But really, it's just a potion. What was the worst that could happen? And the way he knew it made Jaskier's knickers turn quickly edged out out the stabbing feeling in his gut.

He glanced amongst the crowd. People were dancing, others like him had stayed near the sides to drink. By the entrance Jaskier w-

Valdo choked on his drink. Oh shit.

~~

"Julian Pankratz? I haven't heard that name in a while." The man at the door looked up from the invitation. The bard rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, if you'd let me in now that would be great." Time was ticking. Even with a ride back from a dragon it was already night time. The guard took an excruciatingly long time before the bard was allowed in. Scanning the large ballroom for his witcher or that son of a bitch rat fucker Valdo Marx. Gripping the potion tightly with intent. The bard shoved his way through the crowd despite the stares and whispers. 

"Excuse me," Jaskier tapped one of the noble women on the shoulder. "Have you seen a man bout yay high," the bard raised a hand to indicate height. "Silver hair? Golden eyes? Responds by the name of Geralt?"

"Oh, the mutant." The man next to her laughed. Jaskier, keeping the homicidal rage at bay at that word, instead focusing on what was important.

"Yes, where is he?"

"Last I saw he was practically stumbling over himself over another bard." The man, smelling strongly of alcohol, chuckled. "You jealous? Can't imagine why-" Jaskier grabbed him roughly by the collar, a look that could kill on his face.

"Where?" He practically snarled. This seemed to sober the man up somewhat as he pointed a shaky hand to the dance floor. "Thank you." The bard let him go. Seeing Geralt's gray hair in the large group. Jaskier grabbing a single woman's hand.

"Care for a dance?" If he was Geralt, he'd charge through crowd, people be damned. But he wasn't Geralt. And he'd rather avoid the trouble that would come with that. The girl nodded eagerly with a giggle. It had been a while since he'd danced in such a formal setting. The music playing as the couples twirled in and out with the changes of the tune. The bard carefully guiding them closer towards his witcher. His eyes locking with the man in Geralt's arms. 

If he didn't like Valdo Marx before, now he felt put hatred for the bastard. That must've been clear in Jaskier's eyes as the other bard came to a dead stop. 

"I think we should trade partners." The girl he'd been with stared confused. But Valdo was well aware, backing away as Jaskier approached his witcher. The same love potion induced haze was clear on Geralt's face. 

"Geralt," Jaskier reached into his pocket for the vial but find himself freezing when his hand found nothing. Oh no.

Everyone in the hall was watching as the bard searched for the cure. That's when he saw it's remains. Half way across the floor. Bottle broke and the potion spilled everywhere. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! He looked out at the night sky, knowing midnight was quickly approaching. He didn't have time to make another potion. There was only one option left....

Taking Geralt's face in one hand with a loud breath. Gods he hoped this worked. Bringing their faces together for a kiss. The witcher froze after a moment. His eyes widening before the bard pulled away.

"...Jaskier?"


	12. Happily Ever After?

"...Jaskier?"

The first thing Geralt was aware of was Jaskier staring down at him with concern. Only moments later the second thing he was aware was the throbbing pain in his injured leg. He let out a pained hiss, Jaskier taking notice and quickly adjusting to support the witcher's weight.

"Geralt! Thank the Gods you're alright!" Despite the pain Geralt's eyes began to roam the room. A small crowd of people staring at the two as his brain struggled to catch up.

"Where...are we? And what the hell-" That's when Geralt saw him. That smarmy, tone deaf, good for nothing wastrel of a man who'd drugged him trying to escape through the crowd. "You donkey fucker." Geralt snarled audibly. His leg was in pain, probably worse than the initial injury. But he didn't care. Memories of the past day running through his mind as he stormed over to the bard without Jaskier's help. Grabbing Valdo by the collar and punching him in the face. Hard. Hard enough to knock him to the floor yet again as the witcher towered over him.

"Wait, I, ugh-I can-"

"Be quiet you sad, sack of shit." Geralt hissed. "If they touch me or Jaskier, if you even so much as look at us I will hunt you down like the pig you are." Valdo whimpered. "Now I suggest you run before my charity dissipates along with my patience." The man didn't need to hear it twice as he scrambled away, out into the night. Geralt hadn't realized Jaskier was at his side again until he felt his leg wobble, adrenaline now gone. The shorter man helping lead Geralt out.

"Come on, let's get you to a healer." Geralt didn't protest.

~~

"You went through all that trouble to get the cure, confronting a fucking a dragon, only to lose the bottle after it fell out of your pocket?"

"Listen Geralt, I'm a bard. Not a genius. These kind of things happen." Geralt gave him a strange look before emitting a small pained moan. The healer, the same one from when they first arrived, wrapping the bandages on Geralt's tight. The man was more annoyed than anything else as he reached handed a small vial to the witcher.

"Take this and this time she's I say stay off that leg, I mean it. I don't want to see either of you back here again." There healer huffed before someone from the next room over called out. As he left Jaskier couldn't hold the laughter in anymore. 

"What's so funny?" Geralt asked, less than amused by his partner.

"Nothing just...today was a really long day."

"It was a really long week." Geralt admitted as he allowed himself to fall back on the bed with a groan. "Don't think I'll survive smother one here with you two idiots running around."

"Don't be so mean Geralt. Besides, I don't think you'll have to worry about Valdo anytime soon." The witcher raised an eyebrow. "Let's just say I asked my friend from the mountain for a little favor."

"Ah." Geralt felt bad for the dragon. Couldn't imagine the man would taste all that good.

"Geralt...I'm sorry. For all of this. Especially that stupid bet."

"Not your fault he was a sore loser." Geralt spoke as the bard moved in his seat by the bed. 

"So....you ugh, you remember everything?"

"Yep."

"Even the kiss?"

"Yep."

"Of course you do..." Geralt hummed.

"You know when I imagined true loves kiss. You're not exactly what I had in mind."

"What? Are my bewitching good looks not up to Yenn's standards? "

"Well yes but that's not what I meant." Jaskier made an offended noise. "I just thought I'd be awake when I kissed you."

"That night at the playhouse. I thought you-"

"Jaskier. Every person I've ever been involved with has left me. I don't want to do something to give you a reason to do the same thing." 

"Geralt. You know me. There's nothing in the world you could do that could make me leave. No matter how hard you try. I'll always be there." Considering the years they'd had together? Geralt supposed that was at least somewhat true. "In fact-"

"Jaskier?"

"Yes?" Geralt leaned over, cusping the back of Jaskier's head before bringing him in for a kiss. A look of shock crossed Jaskier's face. But that quickly melted as he closed his eyes and did the same. His hand winding through the witcher's snow white hair. A long moment before they pulled away from each other and Geralt spoke.

"Shut up."

"Why don't you make me?"


End file.
